


You’ve Got What I Need

by Daisy1600



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Kevin is allergic to feelings, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sami has anxiety, They’re in high school but it’s not that important lol, Whump, buying drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy1600/pseuds/Daisy1600
Summary: A drabble in which Sami has crippling anxiety, and Kevin deals him the drugs necessary to get him through the schoolday.





	You’ve Got What I Need

Sami exited the side door of the school, heading around to the back of it until he saw the familiar figure of his dealer, and the boy he can be caught staring at across the room at least five times a day, Kevin Owens.

“Hey, Kev, you got the stuff?” He mumbled, hands stuffed deep in the front pockets of his jeans. It was freezing outside, and it was times like this that he wished he didn’t live in Canada. 

Kevin rolled his eyes, dropping his beat-up Jansport backpack to the slightly muddy and snowy pavement. “It’s not the nineteen-fucking-hundreds, Sami. You can say weed.” 

“I- I know, Kev. I just— I feel kinda weird doing this, y’know?” Sami explained, gnawing on his bottom lip as he thought about his crippling anxiety that gets amplified by a trillion when he’s around others. Though it reaches its absolute peak when he’s at school. 

For some inexplicable reason, he finds that it’s most difficult to breathe, speak, and make eye contact when he’s around Kevin of all people. God, he needed to take a hit, and soon. 

“You mean having to deal with me, huh? Well if I’m so horrible to deal with then why don’t you go get your shit from Jericho?” Kevin huffed, crossing his arms and glaring up at the ginger. Sami knew that Kevin didn’t actually mean it. When the French-Canadian was feeling insecure, he got defensive. Sami’s been around — and has observed — him enough to know that that much was true. 

“No, and you know that that’s not what I meant,” Sami sighed, rubbing harshly at his eyes and wishing he could just get this over with so his hands and legs would stop shaking. “I don’t know. I feel weird going behind my parents backs, y’know? Maybe if I just told them about my situation they’d take me to a doctor, get me some help. I don’t know. Just something to help with the shit I have to deal with all the time.” 

“You depressed too? I’m no expert, but I heard somewhere that it can make anxiety worse. Or that the anxiety causes the depression— either way, they have meds and crap for that. Not that I care about your health or wellbeing or anything stupid like that.” Kevin sniffed, finally unzipping his backpack and pulling out a small paper bag. “How many you want?” 

“Just three.” Sami wrung his hands, sweat dripping down the back of his neck and sliding down under the collar of his t-shirt and sweater. He breathed out a sigh of relief when Kevin covertly glanced around his surroundings and slipped the three joints into the palm of the ginger’s hand. 

“That’ll be fifteen, Zayn.” Kevin raised his eyebrows in expectation. Sami sighed, fumbling around with the joints in his hand and his back pocket with the other to try and get his wallet out. 

“Ugh, let me,” Kevin rolled his eyes, reaching around to Sami’s ass to slip his fingertips into the pocket and grab the black and white checker print wallet. Sami had hardly felt the action, but was thrown off guard all the same. His dealer grabbed a few bills and put the wallet back before Sami could utter a single word. 

“B-but that’s only ten—“ he tried to protest, but Kevin merely rolled his eyes again and stuffed the money in the front pocket of his slightly muddy backpack. 

“Then I guess you owe me, Zayn,” Kevin shrugged, already slinging his backpack over his shoulder and beginning to walk away. Sami grabbed the sleeve of the older boy’s hoodie before he could make it more than a foot away. 

“Wait—“ Sami pleaded, eyes trained on Kevin’s dark brown ones for once. “You saw inside my wallet, Kev. I can pay you in full, you don’t have to... do whatever it is you’re trying to do. You don’t have to pity me.” 

His dealer glared daggers at him, practically ripping his sweater out of the ginger’s weak grasp. “I don’t _pity_ you, Sami. And even if I _did_ , I wouldn’t show it by—“ Kevin abruptly stopped speaking, making Sami’s pulse spike. He wanted— no, _needed_ to hear what the French-Canadian had to say. 

“By what, Kev?” He whispered, forgetting all about the joints in his hand he needed oh-so badly to take a hit of not thirty seconds ago. 

“Just forget I ever said anything, Zayn.” Kevin all but spat, hiking his muddy and frayed backpack further up his shoulder before heading back inside the side door of the school. 

“Shit!” Sami swore, kicking a medium sized rock and watching as it ricocheted off the brick wall and hit him in the shin. That brought another, much louder and harsher swear word out of him as he clutched at his shin and hopped around on one leg. 

Kevin Owens confused him like no other, and he was going to figure out _why_ even if it ended in another bruised limb.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, this is just a little something I randomly came up with and wrote half of one night, hated it, came back to the next day and finished in like 20 mins XD 
> 
> Let me know if you want a part two, and I’ll see what I can do!


End file.
